Birthday Bumps

"What's wrong? You've been a little distant this whole meal."

"Huh?" I glanced over to Ethan, who had put an arm around my shoulder. I shook my head, and took a puff of my cigar. "It's complicated..." I sighed. "Just dwelling on the uncertainties of life, and the future, and stuff."

"Aw, babe, you shouldn't fret about that, especially on your birthday!" He took me by the arm, and led us back to our table where a small designer cake with a single candle sat atop. "Relax, you only turn 38 once, after all."

Ethan tugged lightly on my beard, pulling me closer as we locked lips in a loving kiss. I smiled for him, and blew out the candle to his delight. But I couldn't help but dwell on my thoughts. Everything was happening so fast, it wasn't supposed to be this complicated.

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It was while we stood at the front of the restaurant, waiting for our server to return and lead us to our reserved table. I was bouncing on my feet impatiently, when I felt a heavy figure crash into my back. I stumbled with an "oof!" Turning around, I glared at the man who had bumped into me.

He looked apologetic but didn't even stop. "Sorry, kid!" he cried out, almost as an afterthought, as he rushed through the crowded restaurant, to the balcony in the back.

I frowned, but shook off the accident. I wasn't going to let some jerk ruin my birthday. I was finally entering double digits, the big 1-0. I was going to have an awesome lunch with my best friends before heading to the entertainment complex that recently opened down the street. There was an arcade with VR, laser tag, mini golf, and a Ninja Warrior style obstacle course all under one roof! It was going to be the best birthday!

It wasn't until we were all sat down at the table and made our order, I wanted the biggest burger on the menu of course, that I found myself lost in thought. Dwayne had everyone engrossed in his latest Fortnite venture, while I dwelled on the future. Outside of the party, and the presents, I've never particularly enjoyed birthdays. It was a reminder that I was another year older. Closer to finishing school. Closer to getting a job, and getting married, and having kids... It was years off, decades even. But the passage of time was still inevitable. I couldn't stay a kid forever, even if I wished for it.

I sighed, and cupped my chin against my palm, elbow resting on the table. But instead of skin, I felt something rough and scratchy. My eyes widened, and I yelped, jumping back in my seat. Everyone turned to stare at me. "Yo, it wasn't that scary," Dwayne chortled, my other friends joining him in the gentle mockery.

"Yeah, no, I..." I felt my tongue lock up in my mouth, my cheeks burning red. But I didn't dare touch them again, in case that roughness was still there. I became acutely aware of my clothes against my body. They felt uncomfortably tight, as if plastered to my skin. Glancing down, they almost looked too small for me. I tugged on my shirt, which was riding up my belly, then mumbled "I'm gonna go to the restroom..."

Jumping up from the table, I almost ran to where the restrooms were, bursting through the door, my breath heavy. As I cautiously stepped further inside, I jumped as a figure appeared to my right. A young man, maybe college aged, in a crop top and booty shorts. I turned to face him, and he turned as well. I rose my hands up, so did he. The mimicry was uncanny, until I noticed the corners of the mirror. My breath caught in my throat, and I stumbled back from the sinks. It was me! But it couldn't be, he was tall, and had hair on his arms and belly. There was a big lump protruding from his throat, and his face was covered with a dense scruffy stubble. I had to be imagining things. And yet,glancing down, I could see the hairs covering my belly. The bulge in my too-tight shorts. My hairy legs, and massive feet close to snapping the straps on my sandals. I brought a hand to my stomach, clutching at the dark curls around my belly button, and yanked hard. I flinched. The resulting pain was very real.

Panting in fear, I ducked into a cubicle, and tried to calm myself down. Which was hard to do, considering I was a freakin' man! My clothes felt even tighter against my growing body. In my resulting panic, I pulled the shirt over my head, revealing another forest of curly hairs circling my chest. Then I yanked my shorts off, letting my dick and balls roam free, their weight bouncing against the toilet seat with a soft thud. Now completely unrestricted, I could feel my breath begin to deepen, my heartbeat slowly returning to normal. I opened my eyes once more, still not thrilled to be greeted with the mound of hairy flesh that was now my body. One thing was for sure, I needed new clothes. But who could even help me? My hands were too shaky to even open my phone. I dropped it on the pile of ill-fitting clothes, and whined quietly. "Why is this happening on my birthday..."

"It's your birthday?" A voice asked meekly. I didn't even realise someone else had entered the restrooms. "Sorry, it's just... It's my birthday today too." The voice sounded sort of familiar. Carefully, I creaked open the cubicle, and peeked through the gap. Standing on the other side was a familiar figure.

"Hey! You're the guy who pushed me!"

"Me?" The man threw his hands up in defence, shaking his head wildly. "You have the wrong guy, I haven't pushed anyone!"

"Yeah, you did! At the entrance, you ran into me, and barely even said sorry!"

"The only person I remember bumping into was a young kid. I didn't bu-" He paused for a second, scratching his furry cheeks, then whispered, "Oh no... No, that's not possible..."

"You're the reason this is happening to me!" I growled, before swinging open the stall door. The man looked away with a blush. 

"Woah, what the fuck, man! Where are your clothes!?"

I jabbed a thumb to the floor. "They're too small for me. Because I've grown bigger. Because you did something to make me older!" I glanced towards the mirror over the sinks, and almost looked away myself when I saw the hairy, naked man I'd become. I had bulked up considerably, my shoulders were broad, and there was significant definition to my chest. My stubble had grown out to a short beard, now a solid inch off of my face. As if in retaliation, my hair had also shortened considerably. From this angle, my dick looked even longer, and veiny. It gave an involuntary twitch when I caught sight of it.

I cocked my head back to the man, who shook his head defiantly. "Don't blame me, I have no idea what's happening either!" He leaned against the counter, as if taking in his reflection. "I was chatting with my partner when he commented on me growing my hair out. I always have a buzzcut, and yet it was like I hadn't shaved in weeks. So I came here to see what was up. And apparently, a lot is up!"

"So you have hair again. What's that got to do with me?"

"My gray hairs are gone," he muttered with a tug of his beard. "And my beard is shorter, that took me months to grow... I think I'm getting younger? But it makes no sense!" He slammed 

I grunted myself, and scratched at my chest. I was even hairier than before, the curls lapping up to my shoulders, edging closer to my thick beard. "Maybe it's a birthday thing."

"No, that's just a coincidence. Like if if we were both left-handed, or our names were Thomas."

I gasped, "That is my name! Same name, same birthday, it's like some bizarro magic!"

"Coincidence!" He stressed once again. But I knew he was thinking the same thing. Some sort of birthday magic was affecting us. Even now, one glance in the mirror, and we practically looked like brothers. He sighed, and dragged a hand down his face. "This shouldn't be happening..."

A minute passed as we dwelled on the situation. I could only watch as I continued to get older. My beard puffed out ever longer, my hair receding back into my scalp. My muscles would pump ever bigger, my torso getting thicker, and wider to accomodate my increased bulk. Likewise, Thomas seemed to get younger. His beard was diminishing rapidly until it was barely a couple inches long. His frame was also shrinking, his brawny muscles deflating within his baggier clothes. Neither of us looked happy with the situation. Eventually, I sniffed, and wiped away a tear. "I don't want to be old..."

"I'm not that old!" Thomas grunted. "Besides, as if I want to be some snot-faced brat? Things were just beginning to look up for me. I got promoted at work, and a decent pay rise. Things are going so great with Ethan, we talked, and decided to move in together. I just found the perfect house for us, we were going to take a look next week... And now I'm being faced with a second puberty, and possibly reliving the worst years of my life! It's just not fair!" I dwelled on his words with sadness. I wanted to stay a kid, the thought of growing up scared me. Whereas Thomas wanted to stay an adult, because his childhood scared him. It was like some sort of sick punishment...

I tugged on my beard, nervously toying with it. It had gotten so long, it now brushed against my collarbone. I could feel the individual hairs catching and curling against my chest hair. Completely new sensations that felt unnerving to me. I rubbed my scalp, my hair now reduced to a scratchy, irritating stubble.

By now, Thomas looked noticeably younger. His beard was non-existent, a mere shadow still clung to his cheeks. His hair had grown out into a short, layered cut. Not only that, but his frame had diminished significantly, his clothes now hanging off him like a deflated balloon. Any thinner, and they would just slide off his body. He was fighting a losing war against gravity. Eventually, I sighed and asked, "Do you want to trade clothes? It's not like mine will fit me any longer."

He paused for a second, as if there was still a way to return to his original size. Eventually, Thomas nodded slowly. I tossed him my clothes, and he pulled a face. "Ew, why did you leave these on the floor?" I shrugged my shoulders, and he only rolled his eyes in response.

We both ducked into a cubicle each, Thomas hasitly shoving his clothes underneath the divider. As I unfurled the pile, I stuck my nose up. Even his clothes were so stuffy, and boring. I mean, a waistcoat? Seriously? But it's what I had to put up with. It even felt nice to not be naked after all that time. Once I was fully dressed, I tugged on everything with a frown. It fit me perfectly. And I almost wish it hadn't.

I left the cubicle and surveyed my features. By the looks of things, we had reached the end. I looked a lot like Thomas once did, with that close buzzcut, and the really long, bushy beard. There were even, to my dismay, several dozen white hairs sprinkled throughout its tangled mess. breaking up the brown monotomy. Yet, underneath the harsh, masculine features, I could still see a semblance of myself. That little familiarity made me feel a little better. Something to cling to in this strange situation. I filled out his clothes with gusto, my broad shoulders contrasting with my slimmer waist. At the very least, getting to grow so buff without putting in the effort was a positive. Although now I would have to keep it up...

I tapped my fingers on the counter impatiently. "You OK in there, Tommy?"

"It's Thomas!" The squeaky voice called out hesitantly. "I can't believe you'd wear this shit..." The other toilet stall opened, and Thomas came out with an annoyed look on his face. He was a short kid with fluffy hair, and a cherub face. Was I really that small? I couldn't believe it. He threw me a horrid glance. "I mean, Rick & Morty?" He whined, tugging on the graphic tee that fit him perfectly. "Seriously?"

I gave him a shrug. "It's funny, I like it. So do my friends."

"Whatever..." He came over to the sinks once more, and we stared at our reflections. We were almost perfect doubles of who we once were. "So what now?" Thomas asked. "We just... Pretend? Go and live a new life like nothing happened here?"

"Well what else is there to do? Nobody's going to believe us..."

"Right..." He looked weary, as if holding back tears. I felt the same way. Our lives had been thrown into disarray, and all we could do was accept it.

"Well, my family's to the right. You can't miss them, they brought balloons."

"Right... Well, Ethan's out on the balcony at the back. He's wearing the most garish shirt you've ever seen. I told him not to wear it, but he insisted." He smiled wistfully at the thought. "Well... Good luck..."

I watched as the kid left the bathroom first, headed towards my former family, and leaving me alone. I waited a minute, gathering up the courage, and finally headed towards the back of the restaurant. As I approached the balcony, I noticed a man sat alone. He looked a few years older than me, with a salt & pepper beard, much, much shorter than mine, and a thick head of kinky curls. Not to mention a hot pink hawaiian shirt that popped against his dark skin. He perked up as I walked towards him. It was strange, I'd never seen this guy before, and yet I just instantly knew who he was. What he was like. Where we first met, where we danced, and dined, and played, and lived. I almost froze from the cacophony of feelings until he pulled me into a big hug.

"You were away so long, I was about to send a search party!"

"Haha..." I chuckled, unamused. "You know what it's like with restrooms."

We sat down together, drinks already on the table. A bottle of champagne, and two full glasses. A plate of charcuterie sat untouched. Ethan smiled. "So, birthday boy! Here you are." He unveiled a small present wrapped with string.

I opened it politely, gazing at the contents with shock. "Woah, is that..."

"Your favorite!" I reached into the box and pulled out a long cigar. I'd never seen one up close before. I twisted it around in my hand, unsure what to do. Thomas may have smoked, but did that mean I had to? Before I could decide, Ethan took the cigar from my hand, along with one of his own, and graciously prepared them for us. "Happy birthday, Tom!" He grinned, taking a puff of his own cigar.

"Thanks," I mumbled, following suit. Preparing myself for a new life. It had already taken a turn I hadn't expected.

An hour passed as I smoked my cigar, drank champagne, nibbled on light snacks, and chatted with Ethan. It sounded like he had big plans for the day, but I couldn't help but let my mind drift, wondering how I ended up in this situation. Then my ears perked up. Inside the restaurant was a rowdy singing.

"Sounds like you're not the only birthday boy," Ethan said with a chuckle.

"I suppose not," I replied, craning my neck to look inside. I could see a large birthday cake lit up with candles being handed towards a crowd of a dozen, the boy in the center had a nervous smile. He glanced up, and we locked eyes. I gave him a nod of the head, a wry smile imperceptible beneath my beard. He smiled wistfully before blowing the candles out to a resulting cheer. 

Ethan gave me a tight squeeze. "The good ol' days, huh? When we'd gorge on candy and cake with boundless energy, and nothing to get in the way of having fun."

"Yeah..."

"We should probably think about getting a move on if we want to make that art tour. Oh, and then I was thinking we could-"

"Actually..." I interrupted, still watching as the cake was cut, and the kids fought over the best slice. "I was thinking. There's that new place down the street, with the mini-golf? What if..."

"Satisfying the inner child, huh?" Ethan remarked with a chuckle. "Why not. It's your birthday, after all! But I'm not going easy on you."

I joined him in laughter, laying my head against his shoulder, and he kissed the top of my forehead. We watched over the streets, smoking the remnants of our cigars. I finally allowed myself to smile. I may be older, but that didn't mean I had to give up on fun. In fact, I could find new ways to have fun, adult things I could only have imagined. I never thought I'd be the kind of guy who enjoyed smoking a cigar, or drinking champagne, and yet here I was. Meanwhile, Thomas could have a better childhood the second time around, filled with friends and family. And who knows, maybe we'll bump into each other again. We never did figure out the logisitcs.